Unbreakable
by Stranger Kind of Dream
Summary: Now back with the team, the real Melinda May experiences an incident on a fairly standard op, and after an emotional chat with Simmons she is forced to confront some unfortunate truths about herself and her past traumas. This leads to a heated argument between her and Coulson before they finally deal with their feelings for each other. Features glimpses of the whole team. Philinda.


**Hey there. This is my first Philinda fic - I've been meaning to write something for them for a while now (we're talking years here), but I've just never got around to it somehow. However, now seems like the perfect opportunity, especially given the ridiculous amount of angst on the show atm, so here's my take on them FINALLY confronting their relationship. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Status update?"

Coulson's voice crackled in over the ground team's comms, sounding somewhat distant in relation to the commotion going on around them. Agents Rodriguez, Mackenzie and May were leading the attack on a gang that had been hired by the watchdogs, their objective being to obtain the organisation's latest weapon whilst causing minimal disturbance. However, the gangsters seemed reluctant to relinquish their new toy without a fight. The targets had been tracked to an abandoned warehouse in Seattle where they had attempted to hide the weapon before SHIELD had turned up. May and Mack had been responsible for drawing out their attackers, whilst Yoyo snuck in to retrieve the weapon. Agent Johnson was positioned outside, ready to prevent any fleeing targets from getting too far.

Mack was the first to reply to Coulson. His deep, tired voice carried over the noise of guns and shouting as he ducked behind an old crate for cover. "It's over Sir, Yoyo's got the package," he paused briefly, reloading his gun before taking up position to return fire. "But these _bastards_ don't seem to have got the memo," he continued curtly, before rising to his feet to engage with the man before him. "Why you gotta make our lives more difficult, man?" Mack asked, exasperated, as he knocked the mercenary out cold with one blow.

"You got the exits covered?"

"Working on it," Mack assured him through gritted teeth as he worked on taking down the next adversary.

"We've got the package on the zephyr now, but I'll send Agent Rodriguez back to help," Coulson told him.

"Good call."

"Hola Mack," Elena greeted him barely two minutes later, appearing at his side, her hair swinging from the speed of her reappearance.

"Yoyo," he replied, finding time to grin at the woman beside him whilst disarming yet another gang member. "Daisy's trying to keep these guys busy by the doors, if you wanna help her out?"

"Sure thing, turtleman," she agreed with a sly smile before disappearing.

"Still not loving that nickname," Mack called back, and he could hear her laugh ring out from the other side of the warehouse.

"May?" Coulson asked this time. "Fitzsimmons are analysing the weapon now. How's containment going?"

Despite her current situation, a wry smile graced the older agent's face at Coulson's play on words. "What Mack said," she told him briefly, "these guys seem determined to run back to their master." Since some of the gang members had slipped away when SHIELD first arrived, May was now checking out the numerous empty shipping containers lining the far end of the warehouse - it hadn't taken her long to catch up with the few remaining soldiers. The mercenary currently standing before her raised his gun slowly, but before he could even think about firing, May was on him, kicking the weapon out of his hand. The man retaliated, lifting an arm to strike the agent, but she was too quick and had knocked his head against the side of the metal shipping container before he could even make contact. His body slumped to the ground with a satisfying thud.

"You need to round up the strays May," Coulson instructed her, "the last thing we want right now is word getting out to the watchdogs about what's going on here."

"Copy that," May confirmed. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Mack a few hundred feet away, and although he seemed to have most of the soldiers occupied, she was not entirely convinced there weren't more hiding out in the rusty old containers that remained.

Slowly, cautiously, she crept towards the next container along, eyeing its big metal doors, which were cracked open slightly, allowing a sliver of light to escape from inside. May pressed herself up against the entrance, hoping to gain a glimpse of the contents, but from this angle she was unable to see very much. As a result, the agent gently eased the door open far enough to allow her to slip inside, but was confused to find it mostly empty, with just a single torch inside lying abandoned on the floor. Suddenly May was dragged backwards. She felt a hand in her hair and a knife at her throat, before she was spun around and her head slammed against the metal container. Narrow grey eyes stared out at her from the pale, unshaven face of a middle-aged man. A sadistic smile slowly pulled at his features as he roughly pinned her against the wall, knife still at her neck.

"So, you're SHIELD?" The man asked her, his mouth uncomfortably close to May's face as he tried to intimidate her. "Not much of a threat if you ask me," he sneered.

"No one asked you," May shot back simply, relishing the enraged expression that immediately transformed his face as she struggled slightly, testing his grip.

"You want to see a real threat?" He growled, his face mere inches from hers as he moved the knife up to her face. " _We're_ a threat. The watchdogs won't give up until the _plague_ of inhumans is stopped," he spat. "And now," he continued menacingly, slicing the knife slowly along May's cheekbone, "we have something that can get rid of them."

Agent May stared back at the vile man, her gaze unflinching despite the blood beginning to seep from the wound on her cheek. "Not anymore."

At this, the soldier could not contain his rage, and grabbed her hair once again, roughly pulling May's body against his so he now stood behind her, his knife at her neck once more. "You can't stop us," he growled, his lips at her ear, "there are more of us with this technology." May stayed silent this time, a sick feeling beginning to grow in her stomach as the man took hold of her right hand when she continued to struggle. "Besides," he continued slowly, "you're not one of _them_ … I don't _need_ our weapon to kill _you_ … _I just need your_ _pain_ …" May's stomach twisted uncomfortably and she drew in a sharp breath as she tried to repress the terrible image that suddenly flooded her mind. Her worst memory. "Then you'll know what we've got planned for _them_ … how it'll feel…"

The soldier continued to rant on, but May found his words fading from her attention as she stood frozen in place, her eyes beginning to lose focus. Her breathing increased as her mind raced to keep up with what was happening to her body. Something was wrong, she couldn't move… she couldn't-

"May?!" The agent recognised Coulson's voice but she couldn't seem to respond. "May, what's going on? I need you to stop this guy, don't let him get away!"

"I… er…" Melinda tried to reply but she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She could feel her reactions slowing, her heart rate accelerating, and her body became limp, no longer resisting the grip of the man that had hold of her. May vaguely noticed the sound of the fight outside getting closer, then an unfamiliar voice shouting something about an escape. Before she could even register what had happened, the man let go, violently shoving May away from him as he made a break for it. She stumbled, throwing out a steadying arm just in time to stop her from crashing headfirst into the metal wall. She wrapped her free hand around her middle, squeezing her eyes shut as she bent double, fighting to get her breathing under control.

"May? May are you there?" Coulson's voice over the comms was now taking on a rather frantic tone. Even in her current condition, May noted the panic in her friend's voice and automatically opened her mouth to reassure him, but found it hard to form words. Her head was spinning, and although she had sustained a blow, Agent May knew that she'd dealt with worse injuries before and never been as shaken as this. She reopened her eyes slowly, trembling as she realised her worst fears were beginning to manifest themselves.

"I can't see," May barely whispered, terror gripping her voice as she slowly raised her head. She tried to focus on the open door of the container, but this only caused her head to spin further and her stomach clenched as her vision became blurry.

"What?! May, what's going on?!"

"Coulson I can't see," She repeated shakily, unable to articulate what was happening in better terms and trying only to keep the panic out of her voice as the reality of the situation settled in. Her eyes were swimming now.

"Don't move," Coulson told her firmly, "we're gonna get you out of there," he said resolutely. May had no doubt from his tone of voice that Coulson was giving the orders already, making sure she wasn't left defenceless for a second longer than necessary.

With this small, almost comforting notion of imminent backup, May attempted to follow Coulson's orders – and truth be told, there wasn't much else she _could_ do in her current state. So she didn't move, only sank to the ground and rested her head against the cold metal of the - now empty - shipping container. She felt thoroughly rattled to say the least, and pulled her shaking hands up to her face, drawing in a deep, ragged breath as she tried to work out what had caused this. Sure, she'd banged her head, but that was nothing new. There was the possibility of being drugged, but if she really thought about it, there was little opportunity for that, unless the mercenary's knife had been laced with something… but the way he'd reacted… it didn't make sense. A more sinister thought crept into May's head as the image of a girl flashed through her mind again. She remembered the man's words. ' _I just need your_ _pain_ …' May fought the bile that rose in her throat, pushing the thought back down with a shudder. She must've been drugged, that had to be it… it was the only plausible explanation for the fresh tears now springing to her eyes.

"May? You still there?" The agent jumped at Coulson's concerned voice in her ear.

"…Yeah," she murmured, attempting to clear her throat, "but Phil, he… he got away, I didn't-"

"Don't worry," he reassured her, "Daisy's handling it,"

"I don't know what he did, I don't-"

"May? May! Listen to me," Coulson began firmly, attempting to quell the panic in May's voice that was surprising even to her. "It's gonna be okay, alright? Just sit tight, Mack's gonna get you out."

Almost immediately a small figure appeared beside May, the woosh of accompanying air a tell-tale sign of Agent Rodriguez's presence. "Agent May?" She asked tentatively, placing a comforting hand on the older agent's arm. "Are you alright?"

May dragged her watery eyes up to the figure crouching before her, and was horrified to find that she could not focus on Elena's face - her eyes saw two images, both blurred messily into one. "I… I…" She stuttered, wiping her eyes hastily before trying again, "I cant… erm…" May desperately attempted to come up with an answer, to convince the other woman that she was fine, but the shock of what she was seeing had truly shaken her.

"Yoyo?" Mack's deep voice echoed throughout the container as he stepped inside.

"Here Mack," Elena called, voice grim, "she is not okay."

"What, was she poisoned or something?" He queried, his huge blurry form coming into May's field of vision.

"I don't know, but there is blood here too," Elena informed him, gently brushing back May's hair to reveal a gash along her hairline.

"Okay Melinda," Mack began, getting down to May's eye level. Even in her current state, May recognised that this was not a good sign - as an old friend, Mack only ever used her first name in the field when he was deeply worried. "We're gonna get you back to base now," he continued, "so Simmons can take a look at you."

May nodded absently, and as she felt Mack's strong arms envelop her, she could only hope that Simmons was able to reverse whatever had caused this.

* * *

"A panic attack?!" May exclaimed, her voice echoing throughout the empty lab.

Simmons winced - this was as close to incredulous as she had ever seen Agent May. "No," May continued decisively, shaking her head as she attempted to adopt her calm commanding mask once more. "No, run the tests again, there must be a mistake."

Simmons moved slowly, pulling up a chair next to her. "May…" She began slowly, brow creasing over serious brown eyes. Melinda knew that look. It was one present when the scientist had to deliver bad news - one laced with concern, but also certainty. The look of being right, and hating it. She knew it well. "I'm afraid the tests don't lie," Jemma continued solemnly, her mouth pulling down on one side, "…and given your account of what happened - this all points to the same thing. What you experienced were symptoms of a panic attack."

"It can't be," the older agent insisted stubbornly, refusing to accept what she deep down already knew to be the truth. "I practise, I train - controlling my heartbeat is second nature. I've done ops like this a million times before and there's never been a problem... it's not possible."

"Of _course_ it's possible," Simmons replied, her eyes widening as they often did when she prepared to launch into an explanation about the reasoning behind her point that someone else had completely missed. "Blurred vision _alone_ can be caused by increased blood pressure or hyperventilation - the system is flooded with more oxygen than it needs," she continued enthusiastically, leaning forwards in her chair as she got caught up in the science of it all. "It makes perfect sense and is absolutely possible, especially after everything you've been through recently," she added emphatically. This statement earned the scientist a sharp glare in return, and her face immediately scrunched into a grimace as she began to rethink her rather careless phrasing. "Sorry," she added quickly, but no less sincerely. She reached a hand out, slowly, gently placing it on May's arm. "What I mean is, there doesn't necessarily have to be a build up to these types of things, they can come out of nowhere," she told her seriously, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Well... seemingly out of nowhere."

Jemma eyed the woman before her as she spoke those last words, slowly removing her hand from May's arm as she waited, unsure of what reaction she would receive. May only shook her head, setting her jaw resolutely, however her dark eyes betrayed an anguish that could not be hidden by any bravado. After a few seconds Simmons spoke again, changing her angle. "You said you channel your feelings, but that amount of self control…" she continued, no longer able to express her words as brusquely as before. "It's got to be so hard."

"It is," May replied shortly. An uneasy silence rested between the women for a few moments before May continued with a sigh. "It's a process… and clearly I'm not as good at it as I thought," she admitted in a deadpan voice, her mouth setting in a hard line, leaving Simmons to wonder if she had been trying to make a joke. If May was honest with herself, she wasn't really sure. "But," she added, her voice hardening, "I _can_ hold it, I can use it."

"And that has side effects May," Jemma persisted, her eyebrows knitting back together. "Compartmentalisation doesn't always work with things like this, and clearly, it _is_ taking a toll-"

"Simmons."

"Especially with everything that's happened recently, between Andrew and Lincoln, then Daisy leaving, not to mention the whole Radcliffe-"

"Simmons…" May tried again, slowly drawing a deep breath through gritted teeth. "Don't."

"May _please_ ," The scientist insisted frantically, the pitch of her voice rising with desperation. "I just want to help you!"

May sighed heavily, shaking her head as she felt her anger building. She emphasised each word slowly. "Jemma, you don't understand."

"Yes I-"

"No," May interrupted suddenly, slamming her fist on the metal examination table, causing Simmons to jump. "Whatever's happening to me, I can't control it," she continued, her whole body shaking now as her words already began to lose their venomous impact. "I don't need you to understand because it doesn't matter. I'll deal with this," she concluded resolutely, her fiery eyes never wavering in an attempt to project authority. However, little could escape Jemma's inscrutable gaze, and even if her eyes had not been on May, it would have been impossible for her to miss the wobble in the agent's voice.

"I'm not wrong May," she stated, with the certainty that only a bona fide genius could, stubbornly maintaining eye contact. A charged silence stretched on, a stalemate, until Simmons finally resigned, her face adopting that painfully concerned look once again. "Honestly… I know what this looks like… and how one is supposed to deal with it," she confessed in a small voice, biting her lip and trying oh-so-hard not to look down in shame.

The specialist, however, dropped her eyes, drawing in a regretful breath as she realised what Simmons was implying. May knew this was a sore point for the young scientist, and for the first time, she began to realise the numerous similarities between the two of them. They both knew what it was like to carry the burdens of the world on their shoulders, and for all the ferocity, the endurance and the bravery, the weight of something so heavy could never truly go away. May's gaze remained on her hands, which she had balled into fists in an attempt to stop the shaking. Her test results had taken her by surprise so much, she felt as if she no longer had a leg to stand on, and now that she'd somewhat relinquished her role as the superior, she found it exponentially harder to behave as if she was in control. It was much more difficult to claw her way back up to the role of an impassive warrior once she'd let it slip away.

She decided not to - for the moment at least - and when she finally did speak, it was in a small voice. "Simmons," May began gently, looking up resolutely to find tear-filled eyes staring back at her, "I know you only want to help, but… I just need some time," she admitted reluctantly, placing a hesitant hand on the young woman's arm.

The scientist's eyes softened at this, and she hastily brushed away the few tears that had managed to spill over. "It's just… don't try to go through this alone," she said sincerely. "Please."

May allowed the corners of her mouth to tug upwards, a small smile forming on her lips as she nodded in agreement. She knew she didn't deserve such unwavering empathy, but this girl showed her so much compassion, the least she could do was try to give her some peace of mind.

Their quiet moment was suddenly shattered as the lab door opened without warning. "Jemma?" Came a distinctly Scottish accent, closely followed by Leopold Fitz's head appearing around the door. "Agent May?" He continued, and the women broke apart somewhat. "Everything alright?" He asked, his tone becoming more concerned as he took in the scene before him, despite the majority of his body remaining hidden behind the door - a true testament to how apprehensive he was to interrupt the proceedings. Apprehension however, was the last expression present on Daisy's face, which appeared unexpectedly over Fitz's shoulder two seconds later as she pushed him further into the lab.

"May, what the hell, are you okay?!" The young agent demanded, distress written all over her features. "They only just let us out of debrief but they wouldn't tell us what happened to you!"

"Everything's fine," Jemma replied, slightly too brightly, "I'm just finishing the last few tests."

"Are you sure everything's…" Fitz began, before trailing off as his girlfriend glanced at him sharply. The look the pair of scientists shared was quick, but May caught it. Silent understanding. She repressed a sigh. As much as she didn't want information about her wellbeing getting around the base, she could only assume Fitz had already worked out what had happened - especially given the long consultation time despite an absence of any obvious physical injuries. To be honest, it was a miracle that Daisy had only just burst in to see her, although, the general lack of any activity in the immediate vicinity made her suspect that word about her incident had already spread.

"I think the best thing for Agent May right now is a bit of space," Simmons insisted firmly, finally getting up to remove the heart monitor from May's arm. This response did not appear to remotely placate Daisy, but the scientist's assertion seemed to be just enough to convince the other agent to hold her tongue for the moment. "I'll have the blood results back soon, but until then just get some rest," Jemma ordered, now assuming full doctor-mode.

May nodded, her eyes flitting to the young agents still loitering in the doorway. Fitz forced a tight-lipped smile when May's dark eyes met his icy blue. He held her gaze, another frown forming when he noticed the red around her eyes, before his expression suddenly cleared. If she had been in a better mood, May would've smirked at the engineer's attempt to act aloof as he hastily coughed and averted his gaze. Daisy, however, required much more than a stern glance to be deterred. Her intense eyes locked with May's after she'd taken in her trembling hands and fragile frame. She opened her mouth, ready to volley her with questions, before thinking better of it. Both agents were clearly rattled to see their usually stony-faced matriarch in such a vulnerable position, however they seemed to adhere to some unspoken agreement that allowed May the dignity of at least pretending to be okay.

"I'll update you as soon as I can," Simmons continued, making her way to the door to usher the other agents along.

"We'll be in the common room," Agent Johnson told her firmly, glancing at May once more, "Yoyo and Mack are waiting in there too."

"Yeah and erm… By the way, May, Coulson's outside," Fitz added. May nodded once more in reply, and Fitz placed a hand on Daisy's shoulder to gently guide her away. Simmons moved to close the door behind them, a small smile gracing her lips - an attempt at reassurance.

The scientist turned back to face the older agent, watching her as her jaw clenched and unclenched, before she raised her head resolutely. "I'm afraid there's not much I can do to prevent them from finding out eventually," Jemma admitted regrettably, "and to be honest, I'm surprised Daisy hasn't hacked into the camera feed already to find out what's going on." She was startled to hear a small laugh escape May at this. "I'll go and update Agent Coulson in a moment," Simmons added, coming to stand across from the older agent.

"Thank you Jemma," May said earnestly, finally meeting her eyes. She watched as the younger agent's expression softened, a watery smile appearing. She was struck with amazement about how much this girl seemed to care about her - about everything.

"Talk to him, May," Simmons continued, voice soft, "he only wants the best for you." The specialist nodded, and, after a moment of hesitation, Jemma reached out, placing her hand gently on top of May's. "We all do," she told her firmly.

"I know," May agreed softly, flashing her a reassuring smile and hoping it was enough.

Jemma lingered for one second longer before making her way back to the door and slipping out into the hallway, leaving May to marvel at how much their roles had reversed in such a brief space of time. Something akin to pride swelled in her chest as she considered how this once scared scientist had become such a confident, assertive woman, and one who still managed to care so much.

* * *

The sound of the door closing a few moments later caused Melinda May to look up, her dark brown eyes meeting the pure blue of Phillip Coulson's.

"Hey," he said simply. He stood there, his face soft, calm, but she could see through it easily - he'd taken his tie off, most likely so he had something to do with his hands whilst pacing the corridors. She could also tell from his slightly ruffled hair that he'd spent some time running his hands through it, a habit he had when he worried.

"Hey," May finally replied, attempting a small reassuring smile despite knowing he would see right through it. Coulson walked over to her slowly, picking up the same stool Simmons had used and pulling it closer to sit next to her, their knees touching. The silence dragged on for a few seconds before May surrendered, knowing he would wait for her to talk first. "I assume Simmons told you… what happened," she murmured eventually.

Coulson nodded slowly, his expression grim as his eyes flitted away from hers. "She did," he admitted before sighing and running a hand over his face. "This has gotta stop May."

Melinda kept her face impassive. "What has?" She had known that Coulson would want to talk about this - of course - but of all the things she needed, a lecture was not one of them.

"You know exactly what," he shot back firmly, his steely blue eyes burning holes in her façade. She tried her best to ignore him, fighting the urge to roll her eyes - a sure sign of her avoidance - and hoped instead that he'd drop it. No such luck. "Melinda," Coulson continued, pausing as he waited for her to meet his gaze, "your wellbeing is just as important as the rest of the team."

Almost instantly and against her better judgement, May's eyes flitted back downwards. She mentally kicked herself, knowing that her not so subtle avoidance blatantly told Coulson that she already disagreed with him, even though she was yet to say a word to the contrary. But then, they didn't always need words to argue with each other.

Before she could stop to make sense of her actions, May found herself on her feet, responding to the small voice in her head telling her to get out of there. "I don't need this," she said simply, attempting to make her way to the door.

However, Coulson was off his chair just as quickly, not willing to let her go without a fight. He knew her too well. "You don't need what, May?"

"This!" She exclaimed, turning on her heel and taking him by surprise. She allowed the venom to flow freely in her words as she felt her anger build. "Being treated like I'm going to break. Its ridiculous."

May's dark eyes finally met his and, for a second, he was almost thrown off by the intensity of her stare. However, although slightly taken aback by the intensity of her rage, Coulson did not allow this to deter him. He'd been meaning to have this conversation with his best friend for a while now, and after the amount of close calls they'd had recently, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. "I told you that it wasn't time for you to go back into the field yet," he told her, his voice stern. "Your heart stopped, but you didn't listen to me then and went straight back out. And now… After what we went through with the whole robot thing," he paused, regret colouring his features as he looked her over, "after what _you_ must have gone through, its understandable if-"

"I'm fine, Phil," May told him stubbornly, her jaw clenching. For some reason, something inside was still telling her to push him away.

"I listened to the recordings May," he shot back. "You were goading him."

"I had it under control," she insisted through gritted teeth.

Coulson however, continued with his point. "It almost sounded like…" he paused, his eyes betraying his longing for understanding, "like you _wanted_ to get hurt." May turned from him then, hands curling into fists at her sides as she shook her head slowly, visibly seething. "What the _hell_ were you thinking Melinda?!" He finally asked, incredulous.

"Just… don't Phil," she told him, her hand on the door handle now.

"No, we're having this conversation," the agent continued, stepping forwards in an attempt to prevent her from avoiding the subject any longer. "You are not indestructible May."

"I can protect myself," she growled defensively, fire sparking in her eyes.

"Not from everything," Coulson shot back, throwing out his arms in exasperation. "And what if the time comes when something _really_ bad does goes down, and you put yourself directly in the line of fire - because that's what you always do - and you don't walk away from that one. What happens then?"

May stared back at the man before her, admittedly slightly stunned by the ferocity of his tone. However, his anger only served to provoke her further. " _That's_ the job," she argued just as fiercely. "I'll do what I have to - to protect _them_." The agent felt her anger propel her forwards and she walked back towards Coulson, no longer holding back - it was his choice to pull on this thread. "You have _no right_ to say that like it's a bad thing."

"And why the hell not, May?" He snapped, stepping closer until they stood mere inches apart. "We have rules for a reason, we have medical advisors for a reason - so that lives are preserved. How can I _not_ be mad at you for always risking _everything_?!"

"Because it is _exactly_ what you did to me," May hissed, vehemently. She was shaking again now, and as soon as the words left her lips the memories came flooding back. She watched Phil's face sober up a little, trying to ignore the tears that filled her eyes. "And you know what," she continued, voice tight, "afterwards, you did the exact same thing - kept going out on missions, even when I told you not to. Hell, you even ordered me to kill you, Phil."

Coulson looked at the woman in front of him, momentarily left speechless by the raw emotion in her voice. It wasn't often he saw Melinda like this. Furthermore, despite her attempts to remain strong, it was obvious to him that she was struggling - from her shaking hands to the frantic way her eyes darted around the room, not to mention the tears that waited there, threatening to spill over. He sighed, defeated, running a hand over his face. "I don't know why we always end up here," he lied. "I just… If anything happened to you May..." the agent trailed off, glancing down at his friend, "I don't know what I'd do. You've always had my back, and, I don't want that to change. I need _you_."

At this statement, May felt her anger beginning to dissipate, heartache quickly taking its place. She stared at him, contemplating, and taking in the honesty behind his sad eyes before finally managing to find her voice. "When you and Fitz went through that portal… when I thought you were gone," she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat before continuing from a slightly different angle. "We'll always have terrible missions Phil, and we'll always have to put our lives on the line. But we can't hold that against each other, not anymore."

"I know, and I'm not," he agreed. "But… you're not alright, May, and… I can't just let this slide." At this she began to shake her head again, ready to disagree, but Coulson stepped forwards and gently moved his hands up to hold her arms, wanting to reinforce his point. "They took you and… I should've known it wasn't you," he continued earnestly, "and I'm sorry." May nodded, despite having dropped her gaze. "But now that you're back, you need to let me take care of you for a change," he told her, willing her to look back up at him. "What happened today jeopardised the mission and that can't happen again."

"I know," she admitted, voice small.

"I just want you to be safe," he confessed gently.

May sighed, stepping back slightly and causing him to drop his hands. "I _know_ , Phil."

"So," he continued after a few moments of silence, "you gonna tell me what's going on?"

Agent May drew in a deep breath, weighing up her options. They'd been through so much together, her and Phil, and now, finally, after so many years of dancing around their relationship, they were beginning to get somewhere. She wanted to tell him, but she was used to pushing people away, to giving protection rather than expecting it, and over time this had caused her to become cold and unyielding. Like steel. May had always seen herself as having nothing to lose - after all, you can't bruise steel. But then again, she didn't stand to gain much either. After spending so long locked away it was hard to make herself vulnerable… even to him. So many times before when she'd thought she could finally be happy, when she'd made herself vulnerable… reality had always dragged her back to her place. But she also remembered what Jemma had told her, and decided she didn't want to be a robot anymore, even if it meant being in pain.

Slowly, agonisingly, Melinda dragged her melancholy eyes up to Coulson's face. There was no light in them anymore. "You listened to the recording?" She began. He nodded simply. "In Bahrain… what she said… it was the same. I can't explain what happened… one minute I was fine and the next I couldn't breathe - I - I couldn't see." May swallowed, attempting to collect herself in the hope that her voice would stop wobbling. "It's like I was back there… it was happening all over again." She remembered the words, the images flashing through her mind yet again as she felt hot tears pooling in her eyes. "Radcliffe… he made me go back... And… I thought I'd saved her… but, I didn't… I _couldn't_ , I-" May bit her lip, _willing_ the tears not to spill over and hoping Coulson might dismiss the way she moved a hand to cover her face. No such luck.

He watched her as she crumbled, and suddenly he was staring at the same girl he lost all those years ago. After all this time and it still came back to this. Bahrain. The thing that haunted her every day and she was still trying to make up for it. He was livid. After everything that she'd been through, and now that son of a bitch had dragged up Melinda's worst memory and put her through that loss all over again.

May felt a gentle pressure on her wrist, pulling her hand away from her face. The agent looked up as the tears began to fall, anguish in her dark eyes, betraying her desperation as she searched for his face - for the anchor she could always find in Phillip Coulson. "I wanted it to be real," she admitted, her voice finally breaking. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"Oh Melinda."

A whisper. That was all it took. A whisper, aching with concern and heartbreak as the breath passed his lips, and Melinda finally let go. So she sobbed. She sobbed and she shook and she hated herself for it. She really was broken.

"Shhh, it's okay…. it's alright, I'm here," Phil told her, gently pulling his best friend into his embrace as she fell apart. He stroked her hair as she clung to him, just like he had so many years before, echoing the comforting words over and over. "I'm right here, it's okay," he repeated, "you're safe… I'm here with you."

They stood like that for a while, Coulson holding May tightly until her sobs began to subside, and she eventually loosened her grip on his tearstained shirt. He pressed a kiss against her forehead before allowing her to pull back slightly, moving his hands to her waist as she wiped her eyes and drew in shaky breaths. "Listen," he began, gently brushing a strand of ebony hair from her face, "vulnerability isn't a bad thing. This - what happened today - it isn't weakness." May nodded, her gaze flickering up to his face as her hands came to rest against his chest. "Taking time to get better, carrying on despite this and coming back stronger," he continued, his hand resting against her jawline, "it shows just how much heart you have Melinda… how much strength."

She gazed up at him, finding it hard to believe his words until she met his earnest blue eyes. He really did believe in her - more than she thought she deserved. "I don't feel too strong right now," she whispered, causing him to smile sadly.

"That's because you run around protecting everyone else, but neglect yourself," he told her gently, his thumb caressing the cut on her cheekbone. "Let me take care of you."

Melinda nodded slightly, her eyes never wavering from those of her best friend, the man that had always been there for her. The man that she loved.

She didn't stop to think, just tightened her grip on Coulson's shirt as she pulled him towards her, reaching up to finally press her lips against his. His arms snaked around her waist instantly, desperately pulling her closer, as he too decided for once not to think or overanalyse - just act. Because it still felt right and it felt natural… like muscle memory. Like home. They deepened the kiss immediately, both wondering why it had taken them so long to get to this point, and suddenly, all those moments that they'd never addressed, all those feelings came to the surface all at once.

May leaned further into his arms, finding herself surprised that she was enjoying this rare moment of letting her guard down. And Coulson had been right - it wasn't weakness she felt, but vulnerability, in both emotion and body. She revelled in it… she hadn't felt like this for a long time. Her mouth moved passionately with his, growing slightly aggressive as they fought for breath, both reluctant to part. May gripped his shirt tighter, before her hands glided up to his face, around his neck, and she pulled herself against him, consequently pushing him rather roughly against the lab bench, causing a few plastic beakers to clatter to the floor.

At this, Phil pulled back slightly, chuckling breathlessly as he paused to rest his forehead against May's. They stayed still for a moment, both breathing heavily, May's arms locked around his neck, his around her waist, before twisting slightly to observe the mess they had made.

"I suppose we'd better clear this up," Coulson murmured regrettably.

"Simmons likes a tidy lab," May agreed, not wanting to leave his embrace but knowing there'd be questions if they somehow forgot to replace the equipment.

"She does." Phil broke away first, moving to put the beakers back on the side as May watched him, before turning back and flashing her a gentle smile. Melinda found the corners of her lips tugging upwards despite her best efforts.

"What are we doing Phil," she murmured, shaking her head slowly as he pulled her back into him.

"Hmm… kissing?" He answered cheekily, grinning in that way she had always loved - the way he used to at the academy, but she rarely got to see these days.

She had to fight the urge to smile in return. "Seriously."

Coulson sighed. "I'm not sure, but… It's been a long time coming, Melinda. I don't know about you," he paused, trailing the back of his hand against her cheek and enjoying the way it caused her eyes to flicker closed, "but I don't wanna waste any more time."

"Me neither," she agreed, her eyes now locking with his. "I'm tired of fighting this."

"Then don't."

"I don't wanna lose you again," she breathed, frowning slightly.

"You wont," Phil told her firmly, "I _promise_." He leaned his forehead down against hers once again. "But I'm not giving up on this," he whispered, before tilting her chin up slightly and pressing a tender kiss against the now smiling lips of the woman he loved.

* * *

 **Hope you liked it and don't forget to let me know what you think!**


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